


Just Until You're Safe

by shinkonokokoro



Category: The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: M/M, TW: codependency, TW: unhealthy relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-19
Updated: 2012-11-19
Packaged: 2017-11-19 02:14:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/567901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shinkonokokoro/pseuds/shinkonokokoro
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve finally encounters the straw that breaks the camel's back. Tony hurt, again, Steve needs to figure things out so it doesn't happen again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Until You're Safe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Ironfries](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Ironfries), [machinate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/machinate/gifts).



> Just to note, this is not a healthy relationship between Steve and Tony's part. It's mostly on Steve's part, as Tony is largely unaware of what's going on here.  
> Steve is kind of dark and creepy in this fic, but never TO Tony, just FOR Tony. So there's no overt abuse between the two, just Steve being, by and large, an overprotective creeper.  
> So. Just feel the need to put that warning out there for you guys. Most of Steve's creepy dark activities take place out of the view of the camera, but they're hinted at very obviously. Apparently Steve is also stealth king too.

The first...three. Steve would say three. The first three times Tony was injured, he would say he handled it pretty well. And by handling it well, Steve meant, sleeping at Tony’s bedside, clinging to his hand with fingers on his pulse, watching his chest rise so that every breath was counted.

    The forth...does not go so well. Perhaps it has less to do with it being completely not Tony's fault. But it's only as Steve takes the guy down with a shield to the face that Steve realises he might have a problem.  
    “Little rough on the guy,” Clint comments later.  
    Steve just shrugs, not really paying attention as he’s once again at the bedside of his best friend. As he brushes his thumb over Tony’s knuckles, he can’t help the niggling thought that this has to stop. It can’t happen again; his heart can’t take it.  
    So Steve makes the decision that things have to change. And perhaps, the first step is telling Tony how he feels.  
    He has time to plan. Steve’s always been good at that. His mother relied on him for planning things. Bucky did too. And then when he became Captain America, a whole lot of other people relied on Steve for planning too. And when he brought soldiers out of imprisonment to the camp, he had a whole lot more planning to do. So Steve plans.  
  
* * * *  
  
    When Tony wakes, it’s to pain and the familiar sick floating feeling of drugs numbing pain that lurks just below his consciousness, ready to rear its head if he makes any movement at all. So he doesn’t.  
    “Tony?”  
    He blinks his eyes open, smiling faintly at Steve before he’s even focused in on him. “Heya, Cap. Deja vu, huh?” he croaks. But Steve’s expression doesn’t lighten, doesn’t show that relief  it always does when Tony makes a smart-ass quip and tries to be funny to chase the shadows away. If anything, Steve focuses in on him with an intent that makes Tony clear his throat and look away.  
    “Tony...”  
    “I’m here, Steve,” he says tiredly. “I’m not going anywhere.” Something eases in Steve’s face at that. “I’ll live to die another day--ow ow! Steve!” He pulls at his hand which is now clenched in Steve’s.  
    “Sorry!” Steve says, dropping Tony’s hand. “So sorry. Oh my gosh. Just...”  
    “Hey... You okay?”  
    “Yes. Just don’t joke like that.”  
    Tony frowns at him, but shrugs in agreement.  
    “I’m really glad you’re okay,” Steve says softly.  
    “That makes two of us, Cap,” Tony sighs. “Seeing as I’m kind of partial to living...” That makes Steve’s lips tug up a bit, so Tony counts it as a success. “Now how about me getting out of here?” Steve frowns, opens his mouth to disagree or likely chastise him or something, so Tony adds, “You can watch over me all you like.”  
    Steve shuts his mouth, expression turning steely again. He looks like he’s about to disagree. “Fine. We’ll get you home and you can relax there. But only if you promise to relax and not stress yourself out with work.”  
    He blinks. And will take what he can get. “Yeah, sure, Cap.”  
    Nodding once, Steve stands. “I’ll go tell the doctors then.”  
  
* * * *  
  
    Steve makes sure Tony is gently taken care of. He stands behind the nurses, arms folded (maybe a little intimidating), watching them as they disconnect Tony from all of the machines that beep and hiss quietly. Then Steve carefully helps bundle him up in warm, soft clothes and insists on the wheel chair to get him to the car. Tony protests, but Steve holds firm, rolling him into the elevator.  
    “You know I’ll be fine, right Steve?” Tony drawls.  
    “I know,” Steve replies casually. “I just don’t want you to strain yourself.”  
    “You’re ridiculous, you know that?” Tony huffs. “We’ve been through this song and dance before, Steve.”  
    “I know. And it’s ridiculous. I don’t know why it is, but it’s always you getting hurt.”  
    “It isn’t,” Tony protests weakly. “Sometimes it’s Clint. Sometimes it’s you--”  
    “Rarely.”  
    “Fine. But still. It’s not always me,” Tony drawls, leaning on an elbow as they exit the elevator and head to the parking garage where Happy is waiting.  
    Steve picks him up, deaf to Tony’s protesting and hand-waving, deposits him in the car and leaves the chair to a nurse. If he can help it, Tony won’t be the one getting hurt anymore at all. Steve can handle that much. When they arrive home, it’s late, but the rest of the Avengers are there, waiting. Steve carries him inside, letting him limp the rest of the way to where their team can see them. He has an arm around Tony’s waist, however, and is taking as much of Tony’s weight as he can. The man gives him an impatient amused glance but makes his legs move as best as he can as he enters the entertainment room.

“You must be getting old, Stark, if you keep ending up in the hospital after each mission,” Clint teases.

Nat punches his arm.

"You're not exactly a spring chicken yourself, Barton," Tony retorts.

“We are glad for your safe return home,” Thor says with a broad grin.

Steve smiles at them all, glad they’re glad for Tony’s return home. “I’m going to help him get settled in. Then maybe we’ll join you guys for the movie...”

"Apparently I need supervision," Tony drawls.

“Take your time,” Clint drawls. “We’re watching something stupid.”

“I have not seen this masterpiece called Missive Book,” Thor protests. “It has been highly recommended to me!”

Clint and Natasha both groan. “Thor. It’s called The Notebook.” Clint sniggers.

Thor merely shrugs. He doesn't seem bothered by his Midgardian gaffs.

"Doing okay?" Steve asks quietly.

"You know you don't need to do this," Tony returns in the same hushed tones as they make their way to Tony's bedroom. "I am a big boy and can manage myself."

"I just want to help. You seem like you need it, so I want to help."

"Always the boyscout," Tony rumbles, but he doesn't seem angry about it, so Steve helps him into a shower and then back into clothes. He looks down at Tony, limp and tired on the bed, fondly a moment before sinking to sit on the edge of his bed. "Feel like watching the movie with the others?"

"No, seen Notebook once and that was one too many times already. I’m okay with vegging up here."

"Okay," Steve says. "Want me to get you anything?"

"Just my tablet. It's in the workshop, if you don't mind."

"No, no problem at all." By the time Steve returns with it, Tony’s asleep. So Steve gets him under the sheets, sets the tablet on the table along with a glass of water and his next dose of pain meds. He prevaricates about whether he should stay close, in case Tony needs something when he wakes. But... Maybe not yet. So he heads to his own room and strips down for some rest himself.

 

* * * *

 

Steve was going into freak-out mode. It’s something with which Tony is familiar, what with having friends like Rhodey and Pepper. Granted, he does a lot of stupid stuff to get them to freak-out mode. But it happens often enough that he’s familiar with the symptoms. So he lets Steve fuss for a night. And then a second night. And then, because Pepper is in California and Rhodey on tour, Tony lets him a third. It isn’t until Tony fell asleep on Steve’s shoulder in front of the rest of the team that he figures he might have a problem.

So he does what any self-respecting Stark does when faced with emotional issues he’s not ready to confront. He retreats.

Which works for about a day. A day of being cool and professional to Steve. A day of telling him he doesn’t need his help. He doesn’t need Steve to make him thick stew that covers all the food groups. He doesn’t need Steve to help him change his clothes or, God forbid, shower. He doesn’t need Steve to remind him to take his meds. He doesn’t need Steve to help him change his bandages--okay. Yeah. He really does on that last one. Because seriously? Gross. The human body healing is a disgusting thing.

But Tony can’t continue to say no to the subtle slump of Steve’s shoulders, the tip of his lips downward, the soft hurt expression that crosses through his features.

So at the end of Day One: Mission Separate from Steve, Tony picks up his phone and taps out the message: Left my pills in the kitchen. Bring em to me?

Four and a half minutes later, Steve’s knocking at his door.

“C’mon in,” Tony murmurs, not looking up from his tablet.

“Here you go. How are you feeling? Need anything?” Steve asks softly, stepping closer, like he’s not sure he can.

“Yeah. No, I’m good. I think.”

“You think?” He smiles a bit at that.

Tony pats the bed and reaches for the bottle, popping two down like a pro. He waits until Steve sits on the bed and then looks at him.

“Did I do something?” Steve asks slowly.

“No.”

“Do you...want me to do something...?”

“No.”

Steve frowns. “What do you want?”

“Nothing.” Pauses. “Were you in the middle of something? Or do you want to watch some TV?”

The frown doesn’t lift as he links his fingers in his lap. “Um. Well. Sure?”

“Great.” Tony pushes himself up against the headboard, shoving a couple pillows at Steve. “Help me out with these?” And leans forward so Steve can arrange them behind his back. Sighing as he lays back into them, Tony hands one to Steve. “Anything you want to watch?”

“Um. No. Nothing in particular.”

“Mindless TV it is,” Tony proclaims. “JARVIS, find us something mindless, yet entertaining.” The TV across the room flicks on to some TV serial that Tony doesn’t pay attention to. He yawns and shuffles himself to get more comfortable, lacing his hands across his stomach.

“If you’re tired, you can just go to sleep you know,” Steve says quietly.

“I know.” Tony closes his eyes, letting himself lean a bit until his arm is touching Steve’s.

“I’ll leave then. I don’t--”

Tony cracks an eye, grabbing Steve’s wrist. “Calm down, honey. Just sit with me. Watch some TV. Or don’t. But just... sit with me.” The confusion clears away from Steve’s face and he settles back down, a little closer than before. Almost like he’s reassuring himself Tony’s okay with the touch. And that’s fine. Rhodey used to do that. Pepper did it too. Except with her eyes usually, not so much physically. She’d just stare at him. Now that he thinks about it, it’s pretty creepy. But it’s a reassurance thing. Tony gets that. How many times, after returning from Afghanistan did he run his fingers around the arc reactor just to make sure it was there?

So Tony lets Steve fuss. He doesn’t worry about it when he feels drowsy and starts to drift off.

 

* * * *

 

Steve turns to look at Tony when he feels a bump on his shoulder. And smiles softly. Mouth slack, Tony Stark has fallen asleep, leaning on him. Yawning himself, he’s grateful for the closeness. Then looks back at the tv while he contemplates whether or not he should just stay. If he stays, it would be an awkward position, but he would be able to parse how Tony feels about the fact that they’ve shared a bed. If he leaves, he could tuck Tony in. Or... Steve frowns. He could tuck Tony in and then lay on top of the bedding and claim he fell asleep. He only meant to sit a moment. But that was unlike him. So while it would be the preferred option, it held the most risk. Looking down at Tony leaning against his arm, Steve sighs softly. He shuffles down the bed a bit, tipping his head against Tony’s. Folding his arms, Steve closes his eyes and falls asleep.

When he wakes the next morning, it’s to bright light and Tony’s butt in his face. He’s somehow tipped over, Tony’s curled around so his head is on his thigh. Steve smiles. This could work. So Steve goes back to ‘sleep’ and waits until Tony wakes.

It’s longer than he plans for. Steve actually drifts off and jerks back awake when something touches his face. Tony’s butt. He flushes.

“Sorry...” Tony slurs, shifting and struggling to get upright.

“Hm...? No. It’s fine.” Sitting, Steve stretches with a groan. “Sorry.”

“What for?”

“I didn’t mean to stay...” He flicks a look at Tony, assessing.

Tony shakes his head and grunts. “‘s fine... Pass me my meds?”

Steve reaches over and hands Tony two of the pills and the room temperature water. “How are you feeling this morning?”

Swallowing the pills dry with an ease that makes something unfurl uncomfortably in Steve’s stomach, Tony lays back on the bed.

“Tony?”

“I’m fine. I’m fine, Steve. Quit your fussing.” He frowns. “I actually...slept pretty well.” Expression melting into his for-the-public smile, Tony reaches out to pat Steve’s thigh. “I sometimes sleep better with a bed-mate, Cap; don’t worry about it.”

Hope jerking inside him, Steve smiles hesitantly. “I didn’t have any... I mean. I slept really well also.” Though he suspected that was more due to having Tony close enough for him to protect.

“Are you suggesting we share a bed, Rogers?”

“Yes,” Steve replies, no hesitation.

The joking smirk slowly falls away. Tony drops his eyes. “You’re not worried about rumours, Cap?”

“Are you worried about rumours, Tony?”

“My whole reputation is based on rumours, Steve,” Tony says slowly, his face turning serious.

Steve shrugs. “If it helps us both sleep better, I’m not really worried about it.”

“How...progressive...of you, Steve.”

He smiles. “I guess. Do you want breakfast?”

“You’re going to make me breakfast too? Careful. You’ll spoil me...”

 

* * * *

 

Tony doesn’t know what to make of Steve sharing his bed. It’s weird because, Captain America. In his bed. How cool is that? And he does sleep. So he doesn’t complain.

And after only a week, the rest of the team stops heckling them. And as Tony heals, he falls asleep on, lounges on, and monopolises Steve a lot more than he should. And, poor guy, too nice to say no to him, Steve lets Tony manipulate him into the role of security blanket. So, knowing himself and his addictive personality, he decides to break it off.

While in the kitchen, slicing a bagel seems a perfect backdrop. “Steve....”

“Here...” he hurries forward and takes the knife. “Let me.”

“Oh. Uh. Okay. Sure. See, Steve, I think this is a bad idea. We should probably stop sharing a be--”

“I like you,” Steve blurts, flushing and looking away in a way that leaves Tony no room to doubt his meaning or dissemble.

So he stares.

“I do! I do like you, Tony,” Steve continues earnestly. “A lot. I don’t want anything to happen to you. I like...s...sleeping with you.”

“Uh. Wow. I... don’t know what to say.”

A look of hurt crosses Steve’s. He hands the bagel back and puts the knife away. “It’s fine. I didn’t really expect--”

“Hold on. Give me a moment to think,” Tony says, mind whirling. “So... You want... What. A relationship? Sex? What are you looking for from me?” His heart pounds anxiously.

Steve shrugs, awkward with his shoulders hunched. “Whatever you’re comfortable with. Whatever you want.”

Tony narrows his eyes. “And you’d be okay with that?”

“I will be okay with whatever you want to give me,” Steve said firmly, meeting Tony’s eyes.

“Sex?” Tony challenged.

“I...yes.”

“I’ll ignore you three to five days out of seven.”

“You do that already. I may as well reap some benefit,” Steve mutters.

He barks a laugh and then shakes his head. “Jesus. Didn’t think you had it in you, Rogers.”

“Steve,” he corrects, taking a step closer.

“I’ll call you all sorts of names,” Tony warns, taking a step towards Steve.

“I’ll make you sleep.”

“I’m a terrible boyfriend,” he says flatly.

“I’ve never been in a relationship,” Steve counters, folding his arms across his chest.

“I’m an asshole.”

“I’ll make you eat.”

“You’re really going to argue me into a relationship?”

“Is that what you want?” Steve asks, tilting his head quizzically.

Blinking at him, Tony’s eyes go wide as he feels like’s been sucker-punched. “You really like me?”

“Yes!” Steve huffs. “That’s what I’ve been trying to get you to understand!”

“Wow. Uh. Okay.”

“Okay?” It’s Steve’s turn to look surprised. “Really?’

“Okay.” Tony shrugs. Why not?

It’s weird, then, when they crawl into bed together that night, Steve handing Tony his meds. He’s been sleeping clothed as a courtesy to Steve, so he leaves his shirt off as he heads to the bed, pausing. He taps the reactor. “Light going to bother you?”

Steve shakes his head, smiling.

When Tony slips beneath the covers, Steve scoots up behind him, warm against Tony’s back. “Never really been little spoon before.”

“Would you rather switch?” Steve asks, voice warm against his shoulder.

He thinks a moment and can’t come up with another person he’d rather have covering his back. “No. No, it’s fine.”

“Goodnight, Tony.”

“Goodnight, Steve.”

 

* * * *

 

Riding the high of his success, Steve rises early and brings Tony coffee and eggs in bed. even goes so far as to wake him with a kiss.

Tony, in response, slings an arm around his neck and hauls Steve down onto the bed.

Steve yelps and falls to the side so as not to squish him. Tony promptly follows, rolling on top of him and grinding their hips together lazily. Gasping, Steve finds himself suddenly hard. He pushes at Tony’s shoulders until the other finally looks at him, grumpy expression on his face.

“I said ‘sex,’ you said ‘okay,’” he mumbles.

“O-oh. I...thought...” Tony moves to roll off, but Steve grabs his hips, keeping him there. “I wasn’t sure you knew it was me.”

“Oh I knew, soldier,” Tony drawls, voice still morning-rough.

“Just checking,” Steve mumbles.

“How about some frottage?” Tony kisses his neck.

“I brought you breakfast...”

Sighing, Tony falls limp on his chest. “I can feel how hard you are, you know...”

He clears his throat.

“Not ready?”

Shifts a little. It does feel good.

“What’s it going to be? I can get myself off in the shower...”

Hands tightening on Tony’s hips, Steve pushes up tentatively.

And is rewarded with a growl from Tony and pressure. Steve groans and Tony does it again.

“Women...I thought...”  Steve gasps.

“Nope,” Tony says, biting on Steve’s ear. “Always pissed Dad off. He hated it. Stark men were strong against weaknesses. I guess alcohol didn’t count. I got out of the habit though...”

Steve can’t help but feel a little special as he holds on tight to Tony, head thrown back. Tony bites at his throat, nibbles, sucks at the skin. Steve shudders and grinds up against him, suddenly desperate. he orgasms too soon, whimpering softly as Tony continues to rut against him until his completion.

“Breakfast,” Steve pants faintly, unclenching his hands from Tony’s hips.

Tony just laughs breathlessly. “You’re a single-minded type of guy, Steve. I can appreciate that. I’m going to get you single-mindedly hooked on sex.”

He laughs too. “I said I’d make you eat. Food. Then meds.”

“Then shower.” Tony grimaces as he rolls away. “Mm... Eggs.” Arches a brow at Steve. “I don’t think there’s enough for both of us,, Steve...”

“They’re yours,” he says, still woozy. “I ate in the kitchen.”

Tony sits up against the headboard and pulls the tray onto his lap. Tucking in, Steve rolls onto his side to watch Tony.

“You know,” he says casually around a mouthful of food, “it’s going to be a little creepy if you sit there and watch me eat. Promise I’ll finish.”

Chuckling, Steve shuts his eyes and dozes while Tony eats. And it’s nice. Tony’s safe. Steve’s happy. Things are good.

Which means, of course, that they’re called out the next day. Steve insists Tony ride in the jet to....discuss strategy. It’s only a small no-name villain, but Steve’s concerned because he has power over electricity. So to prevent Tony from charging in first, he keeps him in the jet.

Clint goes first, EMP arrows in hand. Tasha goes second, and that’s all they really need.

“That was anticlimatic,” Tony grouses.

Though he doesn’t say anything, Steve agrees.

“We’re having sex when we get home,” the other continues casually.

“Jesus, I didn’t need to hear that,” Clint complains, smacking his hands over his ears. “Are you joking? Or are you... Never mind. I can’t handle the truth...”

Tasha snags the front of Clint’s uniform. “Sir. You’re flying home. I need this man to tear my clothes off.”

Tony’s startled into a laugh. “Turnabout is not fair play. But reference? Points for Slytherin.”

“What?” Steve is confused.

“Poor baby. I’ll show you the world of Firefly later,” Tony says, swivelling to face the controls in the jet.

“I want in,” Clint whines, popping his head back in.

“You’re killing me, Smalls,” Tony groans. “Fine. Movie night. Firefly series then Serenity. Bruce’ll like it.”

“Clint,” Nat Murmurs.

Staring, Steve buckles up as Clint is dragged into the back and out of sight. “They’re not actually....”

Tony shoots him a look. “They might. You didn’t know?”

“No.”

Tony shrugs and they take off. When they get home, Tony heads to the workshop, despite earlier promises.

 

* * * *

 

Tony’s bent over the desk doing some small detail work when he hears the door open and Steve call his name. “Here.” Tony starts when Steve’s arms come around his waist, the man curling over his back. “Uh.... Hi Steve.” Tony doesn’t move, waiting.

“What happened to the sex we were going to have?” Steve asks softly.

“Can you handle that?” Tony grins, twisting to look up at Steve. The man’s face is red.

“I can handle it,” he says defensively.

Tony blinks, reaching up and cupping the back of Steve’s head to pull him close for a kiss.

Steve snugs his arm tighter, pulling at Tony. “Come on then,” he murmurs against his lips.

Stumbling to his feet, Tony pulls him towards the cot in the corner. Tumbling down, Tony rolls Steve over, kissing him hungrily. He kisses Steve until the man goes still beneath him. “You okay, Steve?”

“I’m good,” Steve breaths, looking sort of dazed.

Huffing, Tony drops over to the side. “It’s fine, Steve. Whenever you’re ready, gorgeous.” He can wait. They lay there a little while, Tony curled against Steve, Steve cradling him close. He doesn’t mean to, but with Steve’s hands warm on the back of his neck and the small of his back, Tony drifts off to sleep.

 

* * * *

 

Two days later, Steve corners Tony in his workshop again, approaching much the same as last time.

“You wanna start this?” Tony asks.

“I want it,” Steve breaths against the side of his neck as he folds Tony in close to his chest.

So Tony drags him over to the cot again and slowly strips away his clothes. Steve shudders under Tony’s touches. Laying back as Tony sweeps his hands over him, learning, exploring, mouth hot down his stomach, he grips the sides of the cot, breathing loud in his ears.

“Okay?” Tony asks, blue eyes bright when he looks up for permission.

“I...want!” Steve gasps, moaning low when Tony’s mouth closes over him. “O-oh! Okay! Okay! More!” He’s squirming and panting by the time Tony pulls off.

Tony’s lips are spit-slick, plump, and Steve wants to give him this so badly he can hardly think.

“On your side, honey,” Tony murmurs, budging up behind Steve.

He squirms at the feel of Tony’s length behind him, eager, excited, nervous.

“Easy, babe. You’re okay,” Tony soothes. “We’ll get there if you want to. But for now I’m just going to...” An arm around Steve’s waist, Tony pushes forward between Steve’s legs.

The intimacy of it makes Steve moan.

“Just keep your legs pressed together,” Tony instructs, rocking into Steve.

He keeps his legs tight as Tony had instructed, the feel of it all driving him crazy. Panting, he grabs tight to Tony’s arm, pushing back and exclaiming as he feels the head of Tony’s penis nudge up behind his testicles.

“Okay, Steve?” Tony is murmuring, thrusting against him.

“F-fine! More, Tony, please,” he pleads. Grasping his penis, Tony works Steve over slow and tight. He cries out as he comes, hard. Another few thrusts and Tony comes, warmth flooding between Steve’s legs. He shivers again, Tony’s soft moans filling his ear.

“Good?” Tony asks, breathing hard.

Steve nods, wriggling away so he can turn to face Tony. The wetness behind his balls is a strange sensation. But Tony’s face, pink and softened is perfect. “That was... wow.”

Tony beams back at him. “Speechless, huh? That’s a pretty good accomplishment.”

Steve kisses him lazily, pleased, happy. Tony is warm and happy, safe. It makes for a good day.

 

* * * *

 

They start sharing a bed. Steve creeps in one night, looking so hesitant that TOny just waves him in. Steve curls around him, and they wake tangled together. Tony has one hand tangled in Steve’s hair, Steve’s arm locked around his waist.

Tony can’t find it in him to be annoyed. In fact, he’s pleasantly unbothered by it. So Tony sleeps in, dozing lightly, Steve’s breath warm on the back of his neck.

Eventually, he gets too hot and squirms away from Steve. Who promptly follows. “Steve...” Tony groans. “Steve...!”

“Mm....? You want me to make...you breakfast...?” He shifts, pushing his nose into Tony’s hair.

“No, Steve... Get off...” He feels Steve jerk and recoil. Tony sighs. “Easy,” he says, grabbing one of Steve’s hands. “You’re just kind of like a furnace. And I’m burning up, babe.”

“You don’t mind that I’m here?”

“Steve, I’ve been trying to figure out how to get you in my bed more permanently only for forever. So yeah. We’re good.” He smiles, rolling over to face him.

Steve beams and leans in to kiss him. “I’ll make us some breakfast. What do you want?”

He’s already rolling away and out of the bed before Tony can protest. “You don’t need to, you know...”

“I know! I want to. I’ll fix pancakes.”

“Chocolate chip?”

“Blueberry. Healthier.” And then Steve pads out of the room.

The bliss lasts for five days. Which is when they face off against wanna-be bad guy of the month. Tony goes in hot to cover Clint’s ass because the fool man got himself cornered.

Steve comes hammering down, shield bashing the guy in the face so hard he flops to the ground, unconscious.

“Jesus, Cap; couldn’t have done that sooner?” Clint grumbles as the rest of the team meanders over.

Steve just shrugs.

“Better watch your jealous boyfriend over here,” the archer mutters to Tony as he walks past.

Giving him a weird look, Tony shrugs. Steve’s got himself under control. “Pretty hard hit there, Cap,” Tony comments, taking his helmet off.

“You should be more careful,” Tony reprimands.

“Steve,” he laughs. “I was fine. Do you see this guy? He’s got home-made potato guns to launch his magically grown spuds. You think he was really going to hurt me? Come on, big guy. Let’s go home. Maybe have a bath. Or sex. Or both. You need to calm down.”

Steve’s jaw is set. Like he’s going to argue. But he visibly swallows it and they return home.

Once stripped of uniform and dirt, Tony heads down to the workshop. Steve waylays him, a hand on his back that moves up to curl around the side of his neck.

“I’m sorry...” Steve says softly.

Tony turns. “What do you have to apologise for, Steve?”

“I was a little...”

Tony looks at him, politely blank, expectant.

“Never mind. Just be careful.”

“Steve. I’m careful. Chill, honeybun.”

 

* * * *

 

Tony hasn’t been not careful. Rather...he just wasn’t safe enough. Steve frowns, looking at the man across the office table. Fury is speaking, but Steve isn’t listening. Tony still isn’t safe neough. Drumming his fingers on the table, Steve plans.

Maybe being responsive wasn’t enough. Maybe... Maybe being proactive is the better option. Eliminating threats before they can hurt Tony. That would be better.

“...Captain?”

Steve blinks and looks up. “Sorry. What?”

Tony and Clint laugh. Fury glares. “I was asking you if you have any thoughts on the wrecking crew sightings.”

“I’ll take care of them,” Steve says firmly.

“That’s not quite what I was suggesting.”

Steve shrugs. “We’ll take care of it, Sir.”

Fury sighs. “Alright. Get out of here.”

Tony falls in line beside him. “What’s on your mind, Cap?”

Smiling blandly, Steve shrugs again. “Nothing.”

“You sure? Seemed like you were getting some serious think on in there. Enough to actually tone Fury out.”

“He’s thinking up new ways to be a super creep,” Clint says, chuckling with Bruce and Natasha.

“And suddenly I feel like i’m in mean girls,” Tony mutters.

“Don’t hurt yourself over it, princess,” Clint retorts.

“Screw you, Barton! No more fun arrows!”

Steve puts his hand on Tony’s arm. “Leave it. Doesn’t matter,” he murmurs.

“You’re weird, today, Steve; I think you should get some rest,” Tony snorts.

“Only if you’re with me.”

“Nah. I got work to do.”

“Workshop?”

“S.I.”

Steve nods. That should be fine. “Okay. I think I’m going to go for a run.”

Shrugging, Tony slips his hands into his pockets. “Whatever you want, Cap.”

Steve smiles. Dropping Tony off, he changes into non-descript running clothes and sets off to find info about the wrecking crew. And actually finds Piledriver.

And, standing over the man’s body, Steve can’t help but be struck with the thought: if he’s dead, he’ll never do damage again.

He punches the man in the face to see if he could do it. Steve blinks and kneels on his chest, choking him with a forearm across his throat.

Piledriver dies.

 

* * * *

 

“Okay,” Fury’s saying. “I don’t know who’s playing vigilante--”

“Technically, aren’t we all vigilantes?” Bruce asks, looking up from his tablet.

Fury rolls his eyes. “The point I’m trying to make, people, is that someone is playing God--”

“Thor’s a god,” Tony says, bored.

Fury grits his teeth. “The entire wrecking crew is dead, people.”

“We know,” Clint says flatly. “Why didn’t you just say so in the beginning.” He shakes a cheeky look with Tony.

“These people are supposed to go to prison. Not hell.”

“Thought they went to the cemetery.”

Slamming his fists on the table, Fury glares. “You think this is funny?”

“I think it’s one less potential problem, Sir,” Steve says tiredly.

“Now I am surprised at you, Captain. Here I thought you’d be against this.”

Tony covers his surprise by kicking his feet up.

“I am against all mindlessly death and destruction,” Steve replies calmly. “And I am for justice.”

“You don’t need to make speeches to me, Cap. Keep your eyes peeled for this person. Even if he or she is cutting down enemies, we don’t want this to get out of hand. We still want our public to feel safe. No vigilantiism.”

“Whatever it is,” Tony mutters. “They’re sort of doing us a favour.” They all, save for Steve, shoot looks at him. “What? Not to seem cold-hearted, but it’s efficient. Rather than allow them the opportunity to come back and get revenge once they’ve escaped--because, let’s face it. Anyone who wants to incapacitate us will go for the prisons to thin our ranks, divide us, and distract us. Then they’ll hit us where it hurts and it’ll be too late to stop them.

Everyone stares.

“Stark,” Fury says slowly, “you been killing people?”

Huffing, Tony rolls his eyes. “Seriously? You think I have time for that shit? I’m way too busy to be running around playing jury, justice, judge, executioner. Gimme a break,” he scoffs.

Clint laughs first.

“Can we go now?” Tony drawls, dropping his feet to the floor. “I’m kind of hungry. And as informational as this meeting hasn’t been, I have work to do.”

“We’ll be on the lookout, Sir,” Steve says, standing.

Tony feels the man’s hand curl over his shoulder and looks up at Fury expectantly.

“Go,” the man says with a tired wave of his hand.

They go.

Oddly, Steve’s in the mood, so Tony leads him into his bedroom and has his way with man. Twice.

Then Steve goes for a run.

Tony, envying his energy, naps then showers, then does his work for S.I.

The next month and a half goes much the same. Tony begins to forget the Avengers are more than just people who live with him. They’re pathetically unbusy. Maybe that’s why Steve goes for his runs.

More two-bit criminals turns up dead. No DNA. No witnesses. No evidence to go on. Just dead.

So, with all his spare time, Tony focuses on inventing. And Steve. And sex with Steve. Oh God. Sex with Steve. Tony can die happy. Steve will drag him out of the workshop almost daily, feed him, water him, and then sex him. It’s as close to perfect as Tony Stark gets.

“Tony,” Pepper snaps.

“I’m here,” he says immediately.

“The R&D testing for the Starkphone 4 is glitching with the satellite. The guys down there don’t know what to do to fix it. They need your help. Seeing as they’re your satellites. With your code. That you wrote.”

“Okay, okay; I’ll run the code and see what’s u--” He’s cut off by the blaring of his Avengers card. He grins. “Saved by the bell.” Jumps to his feet, stripping off his jacket and tie. “Was beginning to think it was defective!”

Pepper rolls her eyes and waves him off as he jumps in his private elevator.

The suit is ready for him, so Tony dons it and jets downtown to meet the team at the coordinates.

Tony’s there first, so he engages, allowing civilians time to get away.

“Jesus, Tony!” he hears Steve over his comm. “Please be careful.”

Tony laughs. “Steve, relax, this guy is no trouble at a--ah! Hey!” He falters in the air as the guy blasts him with...whatever. “Shit! My suit!” Tony lands quickly as his suit starts dematerialising.

“Molecule Man! Remember that!” the man yells.

Swearing, Tony staggers. “Hey asshole! I liked the Mark IX! I--” He jerks back as Steve slams into the dude from over Tony’s head. “Wow. Way to be dramatic, guys,” Tony drawls at Clint who drops out of the Quinjet next.

“Sorry,” Clint shrugs, clearly not. “Blame your boytoy. He got a little crazy when you cut off and stopped responding...” He fires off a few arrows.

“Clearly I’m fine. He just...dissolved my suit. Or something. Have to analyse later....” He winces as Steve slams his shield into the guy’s gut, catching him under the chin on the upswing. “Jesus, Steve!” Tony frowns and jobs closer when Steve doesn’t stop. “Steve! Steve, stop!” Breaking into a run, Tony grabs for his arm. “Steve!”

Whirling, Steve grabs Tony’s arm, twisting it up behind his back..

“O-oh! Shit! Steve! It’s me!” Tony shouts, released immediately. “Calm down, soldier...”

“Tony!” Steve drops his shield, grabbing Tony’s biceps. “Do not go into a fight alone!” His voice is shrill, legitimately concerned.

“Whoa, whoa...” Tony gentles. “Steve, I’m fine. You weren’t here; I went in. Protect the civilians.”

“You’re a civilian,” Steve insists.

“Cap,” Clint breaks in gently. “Man’s grown. He knows how to take care of himself. You taught him.”

Tony watches Steve look him over, taking a deep breath.

“You’re right. I’m so sorry. I just...got worried,” Steve breaths.

“It’s okay,” Tony says in unison with Clint’s, “This been happening a lot?”

Tony glares. In the back of his mind however, can’t help but think there might be something to that. He files it away under: later, and they get Molecule Man defused, arrested, and hospital-bound.

 

* * * *

 

Steve is halfway to his feet when Tony comes over, frown on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Wrong? Nothing. I just...”

Worry fuels him all the way to his feet, only to be pushed back onto the sofa by Tony. Who promptly flops down, head on Steve’s lap. “Tony?”

“You trust me, right?”

He sounds so uncertain. Steve cups the side of Tony’s neck, just to feel his pulse beneath his fingers. “Yeah. Why?”

“Well Clint said that shit earlier...”

“What? What did Clint say?”

Tony looks up at him cautiously. Steve wonders if it’s a conscious decision that Tony chose to lie in his lap. “You kind of went off the deep end, Cap, on that poor guy.”

“You’re sympathising with the enemy now?” He’s horrified. “He was going to kill you!”

Tony rolls his eyes. “See, that’s the thing. He was fine. I had it under control at the very least.”

“You didn’t have your suit!”

“Calm down, soldier.” Tony’s hand covers his. “You prepared me for that. Remember?”

Steve forces himself to relax. “No, you’re right. I’m sorry. I just... I care about you. A lot. And I don’t want to see you get hurt,” he says, dropping his eyes. He just needs to be sure Tony is safe. Since Tony can’t do it himself.

Tony tuts, his face softening. Like Steve knows it would. “Steve. I do marginally less stupid things these days because of you. Take it easy, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know,” Steve says softly, smiling at Tony. He would make sure of that.

 

* * * *

 

Bored again, since their vigilante is back, Tony is left with nothing better to do than Steve and invent.

Tony frowns more than usual when the Mandarin turns up dead.

And not only dead. But a bloody destroyed mass of skin, bones, and viscera.

And not only dead, but apparently lured to New York with the promise of delivery of one Tony Stark. (He ignores the way his stomach twists.)

And not only lured, but apparently Tony was his next target anyway. And the more SHIELD looked into it later, the more Tony felt like vomiting.

But for now, as he stands over his body, Tony just stares. When Steve arrives, he wraps an arm around Tony’s waist from behind.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, Tony,” Steve soothes. “You’re safe. It’s fine. At least he’s gone. It’s okay.”

“Okay?” Bruce says tightly. “This is not okay. This is murder. This is inhumane. Steve, this is not okay! What’s the matter with you?!”

“Tony’s upset!” Steve says stubbornly.

“Tony’s a grown ass man,” Clint snaps. “He’ll be fine, Steve, what the hell is wrong with you that you think this is okay?! You--”

“I don’t think it’s okay,” Steve protests.

Nat steps forward and grabs Clint’s arm. He shakes her of, stalking forward and stabbing a finger in Steve’s chest. “You’re taking this all too far! You’re crossing lines, Cap; and if I have to be the one to call you out, then fine!”

“What am I doing wrong?”

“You’re letting this happen!”

“Letting it happen? How on earth would I be doing that? That’s ridiculous!”

“Clint, I don’t think--”

“Shut up, Bruce. I may not know exactly how this is shaking down, but believe me, it is. This is all part of Steve’s creepy obsession with Tony! Which okay, fi--”

“What are you sa--”

“You’ve all noticed it! You’re just too goddamn chicken to say shit!”

“I don’t--”

“Why is it--”

“Clint, you’re out of line! I love Tony! I have--Tony? Tony, where are you going?”

He walks away from the arguing that makes him feel five years old again and throws himself into the air.

Tony doesn’t go to the tower. He doesn’t quite know where to go, so he circles the city, below flight paths, comms and GPS off. When it gets dark and Tony’s tired, he sighs and turns towards home.

Steve’s there. Of course Steve’s there. Waiting. Military posture, hands behind his back. Tony lands and the armour comes off. He doesn’t say anything. Neither does Steve. For a minute.

“What did I do?”

“What’s going on, Steve.”

“Tony... I’m just looking out for you,” Steve says desperately.

“Yeah, see that’s what I don’t get.” He starts pacing, far enough from Steve so he can think clearly. “I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”

“No you can’t!”

Tony’s foot stills. He turns to look at Steve. “So that’s the crux of it.”

“What? No!”

“You don’t trust me. You don’t trust me to take care of myself. You don’t trust me to keep myself safe,” he says, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

“No, I don’t trust you to not keep trying to prove me wrong about something you proved the first time we fought together!” Steve shouts. “I don’t trust you to not put everyone else first and risk yourself! I don’t trust you to be selfish enough to put yourself first when you should!”

Reeling back, Tony took a steadying breath. “I’m selfish enough, Steve. Don’t make my bad qualities into good ones,” he says, voice low and rough.

“You have good qualities, Tony! You’re worth more to me than the rest of the team!”

Tony’s face softens. “I love you too, you know.”

Steve blinks, honest surprise flashing across his face.

“You said it. Do you remember?”

Steve nods slowly.

“Did you mean it?”

“Of course I did!” Steve replies quickly.

“Good. So stop this nonsense, Steve.”

Looking away, Steve swallows. “I...can’t lose anyone else. I’ve lost everyone I’ve ever cared about, Tony. I can’t lose you too, you understand...”

Tony rolls his eyes but tsks and goes to his boyfriend, hugging him. “Steve...”

“I’ll take care of you,” Steve promises into his hair. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“Not at cost to yourself,” Tony corrects. “Because Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I can’t lose you either,” Tony says warmly.

Steve squeezes him in reply.

 

* * * *

 

Steve waits a week to see if there’s any evidence of Tony not believing his reasoning. Which...weren’t all false. In fact, they were all true. He’s honestly amazed that he’s not been caught yet. Especially after the Mandarin... He’d gotten a bit out of control. He’d not been able to control himself, having seen the plans the man had had for his Tony. The man had deserved to die. And die painfully. And Steve had been able to make himself do that.

It worries him. Maybe a little, that he does this. That he can find it so easy to kill. But when he has Tony in his arms, Tony smiling at him because of an inside joke, Tony laughing at something Steve said, Tony working in his workshop hunched over his tools, Tony flying through the air in the suit all grace and brash power, Tony muttering into his coffee, Tony talking too loud, Tony tripping on his too-long pant hems, Tony kissing him, Tony grabbing his butt, Tony whispering that he loves him, Tony sneaking into bed late after working too long, Tony napping on the sofa, Tony singing in the shower when he thinks that Steve’s not listening, Tony licking ice cream off his spoon in that distracting way, Tony bouncing around the boxing ring, Tony gasping softly and breathing hot against Steve’s neck, Tony cuddled up against his side in sleep, Tony flinging his hands all over in excitement, Tony glaring as he argues, Tony grabbing his hand when Steve least expects it, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony...

Steve can think of these reasons and justify it.

Because with a success rate of almost two years and counting since injury to Tony, Steve is infinitely more reassured that he would live a long life with Steve. Because Steve will make it happen.


End file.
